Bianca

I stiffened and scrambled to my feet, pushing myself off St Just’s lap quickly, wrapping

my arms around my body protectively as I glared at O’Grady. And I had to use all my will

power to remain indifferent.

This was the man who had called me a Wh*re. Just after, in my naivete, I had confessed to him, that I loved him.

He looked so breathtakingly handsome and so very attractive, his jaw dark with stubble, and his eyes holding mine in an intense look. The black hair, vibrant and thick, was ruffled, as though he had been running his hands through it and I saw the bags under...